


The Real Demons

by RollForHuffiness (NeuralBlock)



Category: Oxventure (Web Series)
Genre: Confrontations, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Emotional, Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuralBlock/pseuds/RollForHuffiness
Summary: Prudence faces a lot of stigma for being a Tiefling. The Oxventurer's don't treat her that way but that doesn't mean the rest of Geth has suddenly accepted her. After all, her parents left her to die in the forest for being a "devil baby". How would they react if they found out she was still alive? How would she react to finally meeting the people who left her to die?Let's find out.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 45





	1. Money Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> Had an idea for a little Oxventure piece when I was reading other works a few days ago. So I thought I'd try it out! Let me know what you think and whether you want to see more :)

_ “What do you mean we are almost out of money? We just got paid for that bounty contract a few days ago! Where did the money go?” _

_ “I don’t know what to tell you Corazon! I am a druid, not a metal detector. Since you are so fond of all things shiny, how do I know that you haven’t spent it on another dumb hat?” _

_ “Dumb?! How dare you! Have you no sense of style?” _

Another day, another pointless argument. As odd as others found the Oxventurer’s guild to be, in their downtime they were like any other family. Bickering over insignificant things, strange inside jokes and the occasional occult event. They even had family pets! Though you would not say that an ominous orb and two sentient Grimoire’s were what counted as “normal” pets in Geth.

Then again, normal was not the word people used to describe the Oxventurer’s. After all, a tiefling, a Dragonborn, a wood-elf, a half-orc and a pirate walking into any town, sounded like a strange set-up for a punchline. As in people would get punched, in a line.

Prudence was sat on a barrel on the deck of the Joyful Damnation, watching Merilwen and Corazon argue back and forth about the state of the guild’s finances. Egbert and Dob were standing at the bow of the ship, arms splayed as they sang the song of the “Titanic”. Frisky and The Darkness were circling the edge of the ship, occasionally jumping up and trying to take a bite out of passing seabirds, with varying levels of success.

As the bickering continued, the tiefling tilted her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the sea. Growing up in Cyrus’s cave, she rarely saw the ocean. The roaring waves, with their sheer power and deadly beauty, always remained just out of reach. Whenever she ventured down to the ocean to retrieve ingredients for Cyrus’s experiments, she would always linger by the coastline – just letting the crashing surf flood her senses.

Whilst Corazon found adventure and purpose at sea, she found comfort. Although Cyrus raised her, he was not a good man. Affection and love were foreign concepts to him, seeing Prudence as an assistant rather than an adoptive daughter. From the moment she could walk on her own, Cyrus would send her on errands. She quickly learnt not to expect kindness or comfort from him, only an occasional nod when she did as she was told.

The first time she genuinely felt cared for, was a few months into her pact with Cthulhu. Their pact was one of power and servitude. He provided her with strength and abilities in return for her blood sacrifices and occult furniture arrangements. She had made the pact out of spite to Cyrus, just to see the look of betrayal in his eyes as she blasted him off the cliff outside their cave. So, when she was chased out of a nearby town for being a “demon” and “a stain on society”, with a crossbow bolt lodged into her shoulder, she did not expect the elder god to speak to her. Yet, he did.

**_ THEY FEAR WHAT THEY DO NOT UNDERSTAND.  _ **

**_ DO NOT BE AFRAID, MY CHILD.  _ **

**_ I AM HERE.  _ **

**_ I WILL GUIDE YOU. _ **

**_ LISTEN TO MY CALL. _ **

When she awoke the next morning, her wound was healed, and her blood sang with Eldritch power. Listening to the song that now permeated her entire body, she ventured back into Corinth as the sun rose. That was the villager’s last sunrise. From then on, instead of the usual conflicting feelings that would follow a sacrifice, she only felt pride and vindication. He accepted her, supported her and provided her with the chance to right the wrongs in the land of Geth. Who knew that was something your parents were supposed to provide for you?

_ “PRUDENCE.” _

The tiefling startled back to the present, to witness the whole Oxventurer’s guild standing in front of her, patiently awaiting an answer. Or in Corazon’s case, not so patiently.

_ “Uh. What? I was not listening. I stopped paying attention when you started talking about hats.” _

The pirate’s eyes rolled so far back into his head, Prudence was genuinely concerned that he was being possessed by something evil and it was not her doing. Like she said on the mountain if there was going to be a great evil, it was going to be her. Dob and Egbert just giggled quietly, whilst Merilwen repeated the question:

_ “We’re going to go find another job to do, as SOMEONE, spent all of our money on golden strings for his lute.” _

Four pairs of accusatory eyes levelled themselves at Dob, along with a grumpy seal (more so than usual) and two demonic books. As per usual for the half-orc, he was completely unphased. For a bard with ridiculously outlandish plans that had a medium success rate, he was remarkably crafty when spending the guild’s money or just throwing it into various bodies of water.

_ “Music is an art form Merilwen and it takes dedication, sacrifice and sometimes, yes, financial investment.”  _

_ “My super cool pirate rings are not for investing!” _

Giving Dob a scolding smack over the head, the wood-elf led the group off the Joyful Damnation and into the nearby town of Irragin. A normal town, at least by their standards, with the usual taverns and market stalls scattered around the place. A few seedy-looking individuals sized the guild up from shadowed alleyways, merchants spotted the potential customers and shoved their wares into their faces, quickly backing away when they saw the tiefling at the back of the party.

Soundlessly, Corazon fell into step with his warlock friend, glaring at anyone who dared to look at Prudence in a negative light. It had taken a few months for the guild to get used to the stares and muttered whispers that occurred wherever Prudence went.

In the first few weeks, the adventurers would have to leave a town at a brisk pace, due to Dob or Corazon getting drunk and then fighting anyone who dared say something offensive about tieflings. Although a sweet gesture, Prudence found it tiresome to deal with and eventually the group adapted to her usual strategy of “ignore and observe”.

Thankfully, being the so-called spawn of evil was useful for getting through crowds. The townspeople nearly tripped over themselves to get out of the party’s way, allowing a clear route to the bulletin board where the “Adventurer’s Wanted!” posters were hung up. As a group, they started reading the new posters, searching for an easy meal ticket.

_ “Adventurer’s needed to track down the seasoned mouse. Haven’t we done that one already?” _

_ “Help my son’s been kidnapped by the trees! Nope, nope, we just did a nature thing Merilwen and if I must talk to that idiot wizard Binbag one more time, I’ll shave off your fur whilst you’re having a catnap.” _

_ “What about this one? Adventurer’s wanted to take out an evil demon that is terrorising the local area.” _

Arching an eyebrow, Prudence leaned over Dob’s shoulder to peek at the poster. It was written on fresh parchment, with the kind of fancy ink that Corazon used to write his Penny Dreadful stories about their adventures. The poster did not provide any further information, apart from an address to visit for further inquiries. Curiously, it did not even state how much money was on offer for a job well done.

_ “We haven’t come across a demon terrorising the local area, have we?” _

Egbert’s snout wrinkled as he thought hard, trying to remember but drawing a complete blank.

_ “Well if they aren’t going to pay us, why should we get rid of this evil demon?” _

The pirate had a point. Prudence stepped away from the bulletin board, scanning her surroundings on instinct. She had not sensed any great evil or powerful creatures when they docked, if she had, she would have made a beeline for them. So why waste time on a job that was not going to get them paid?

_ “Maybe the payment was missed out on purpose? So only those interested in stopping the evil will get the money, rather than money-grubbing opportunists.” _

Dob spoke aloud, ever the positive thinker. The chaotic duo of Prudence and Corazon scowled at the bard, muttering under their breaths about their fellow party members being a bunch of goody-two-shoes.

_ “Let us at least ask. Who knows, maybe we will stumble onto something else or learn some valuable information for the future. If we accept the job, maybe they’ll feed us tonight!” _

At the mention of food, Egbert’s eyes lit up. In eerie synchronicity, Dob, Merilwen and Egbert turned to Prudence and Corazon, batting their puppy eyes and making sad whimpering noises. The wood-elf even changed into her cat form and started rubbing herself around their legs, purring and being adorable. From experience, the pirate knew that if he did not give in, then they would sulk for a week and drink all his rum.

_ “Fine. Fine. If this turns out to be a bust, I’m stealing their gold and you guys are scrubbing the ship till it sparkles.” _

As they set off towards the address in question, Prudence felt a lot of eyes on her. More so than usual. It seemed that every townsperson was staring at her. Not with the fear they had earlier, but with anger and hatred. It was… unsettling. Prudence did not like to be unsettled.

Whatever this was, it was not going to end well.


	2. Tea Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guild meet the owners of the Adventurer's Wanted poster.

After ten minutes of walking, the guild reached their destination. It was a rustic cottage, a few decades old by the look of the aged stones. Moss coated what remained of the garden path, winding its way through the warzone of unkempt flower beds. Weeds fought with flowers, herbs straining to reach the rays of sunlight that trickled through the overgrown hedges that surrounded the property. The windows were mucky and clouded, the walls starting to crack and the brick roof long since faded from its bright origin.

The front door, however, was eerily new. A sturdy, iron-wood door stood in contrast to the crumbling stones that surrounded it. The metal shone in the afternoon light, inviting the adventurers closer. As they stepped closer, they were interrupted by a quiet meow. Peering out of one of the hedges, was a pair of inquisitive green eyes. A cat as black as midnight darted out of the underbrush, beelining straight for the group. Dob and Merilwen, immediately dropped to the ground and started cooing at the feline, who cautiously approached them and demanded scratches.

_“Who’s a good kitty? Who wants all the cuddles? Who wants to come live on the ship forever?”_

_“We already have a ship’s cat, plus he probably has an owner. We can’t just steal someone’s cat.”_

_“You steal things all the time! Also, Merilwen is not always a cat! Sometimes, she’s the ship’s bear or giant octopus.”_

Stepping past the bickering pirate and orc, Egbert knocked on the front door – a powerful, heavy sound that spooked the feline slightly. Digging in his bag, he pulled out some pamphlets, ready to spread the good word of his order to these fine folks. A couple fluttered to the ground and were immediately pounced on, bringing that large toothy grin back to the dragonborn’s face. Maybe a pet for the guild was not such a bad idea…

Glancing around, Corazon realised that the surrounding area was completely silent. Nobody was out hawking their wares or tending to their herb gardens. No children played in the street or threw a ball for their dog to chase. All the windows were shut tight, doors slammed shut and locks clicked into place. It was as if the whole street was waiting for something to happen. He shared a knowing look with Prudence, who straightened up slightly, yellow eyes darting around in search of danger. They had had enough nasty surprises for one week.

_“Just a minute, this door is awfully heavy you know…”_

An eloquent voice floated through the crack created by the slowly opening door. Heaving the door open, a middle-aged couple stood before the adventurers, with a polite smile on their lined faces. They seemed to be doing well for themselves, dressed in nice clothes. The man’s hands were covered in calluses and his skin was a warm olive tone, indicating years of farm labour. His wife stood upright, firm and commanding, reminding Corazon of some of his tutors growing up. Most likely a teacher.

If you opened your front door to see a half-orc strumming a lute, a wood-elf druid gleefully petting a cat, a pirate pickpocketing his friends, a dragonborn brandishing pamphlets and a tiefling warlock looking about three seconds from committing mass-murder, you’d probably be a bit jumpy. Heck, Corazon could be a bit paranoid, especially regarding small children brandishing letters with his name on it. There were only so many black spots you could receive before you began to distrust the postal system altogether. However, this couple seemed … oddly calm.

_“Hi! We saw your Adventurer’s Wanted sign about a demon that has been terrorising you and came right over to help you fix your problem, free of cha-OOPH.”_

Two different elbows jammed into Dob’s kidneys, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. Shooting pain laced through his torso but the grin on his face stayed firm. To be honest he kind of envied Egbert, one less kidney meant one less target for the guild’s remarkably sharp elbows. Whilst Corazon muttered veiled threats into Dob’s ears, Merilwen stepped forward with the couple’s black cat in her arms. Thankfully, the wood-elf was good at explaining the situation that had brought the guild to their doorstep and it was not long before they were invited inside.

_“Would you like some tea, lovelies?”_

Dob nodded eagerly, following the woman into what he assumed was the kitchen. Egbert collapsed in an armchair, setting his mace and shield on the floor. The other three sat on the sofa, facing the stranger who perched on the edge of a stool. Squirming out of Merilwen’s arms, the cat walked across Corazon (getting fur on his new coat) and settled on Prudence’s lap. Frisky and The Darkness sniffed at this creature being near their warlock but tolerated it, especially as Prudence scratched the cat behind its ears – causing a purr to rumble from its chest.

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, until Dob and the woman returned with a tray of teacups and biscuits. The bard carefully placed the tray on the small table, hands shaking slightly as he tried to be delicate with the clearly fragile china. Cthulhu only knew how much gold he would throw at the couple if he broke a single cup or saucer.

_“So, you want us to take out a demon?”_

Corazon piped up, getting bored with the dramatic silence. The old man nodded sagely, before speaking for the first time – his voice being gruffer and less eloquent than his wife’s.

_“Aye, we thought we were free of their kind, but it’s returned to perform all sorts of evil deeds on the good people of Irragin.”_

At the mention of evil deeds, the guild glanced at Prudence for some form of explanation but was met with only a shrug. Not every demon’s deeds had a purpose or logic behind them, some just liked the scent of blood or the gleeful nature of causing chaos. She would need more information than that to even get an idea of the species of demon they were talking about. Absentmindedly, she sipped the last of her lukewarm tea and placed the chipped cup back on the tray – much to the annoyance of the cat in her lap who had been trying to drink from it.

_“Could you be more specific? There are lots of sub-species of demons, with different aims and objectives. Any information you could give us would be helpful in tracking the creature and establishing any weaknesses it may have.”_

The room fell silent once more. Not an awkward silence like before but an uneasy one. Prudence glanced at her friends, confused about whether she had somehow offended the humans, but they seemed as perplexed as she was. The couple shared a look, a weighted one that seemed filled with a greater range of emotion than the tiefling thought they were capable of. When they finally spoke, she was not the only one who noticed that they would not look at her.

_“The creature lives in a cave about two days walk from Irragin. They recently kidnapped a young woman from the village, the blacksmith’s daughter Lauren. She vanished in the middle of the night, shortly after the demon was sighted on the town’s outskirts. Livestock has been falling ill, storms have torn down buildings and we all live in fear. We’d appreciate if you and your three friends would help us in our time of need.”_

Dob’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and the guild watched him count the party members several times. When the confusion did not abate, Merilwen shot him a look of pity and spoke what they all were thinking:

_“There are five of us.”_

This time, the woman spoke up.

_“Oh, of course, our mistake. We didn’t think you counted the monstrosity as a member of your group.”_

The pieces clicked together in Prudence’s head. The chipped mug of lukewarm tea, the refusal to look her in the eye, the clear disgust whenever they said the word “demon”. It was more of the same. Eldritch energy began to crackle in her palms, straining to be unleashed upon her surroundings. The roar of the sea began to fill her ears, the smell of rust and salt flooding her senses as she struggled to contain her anger. She would not be the monster that they thought her to be. Not today.

Leaning over Corazon, Merilwen picked up the cat and gave the tiefling’s hand a quick comforting squeeze before turning to the couple and speaking in a clipped, polite tone.

_“We will investigate this cave and determine whether there is any true evil intent from the creature living within. If possible, we will try to locate Lauren and ensure her safety. Now, if you will excuse us Mr and Mrs…?”_

_“Preston. Daniel and Esther Preston.”_

_“Have a pleasant evening, Mr and Mrs Preston.”_

Cautiously, the guild stood up to leave the cottage. Prudence stalked out the front door, slamming it behind her with unnatural strength that shook the foundations of the house. The other members of the guild decided to give her a head start, not wanting to be the target of an Eldritch Blast. They thanked the couple for the tea, petted the cat once more and left, venturing back to the Joyful Damnation.

Prudence sprinted towards the ship, energy crackling at her fingertips and rage fuelling her every movement. Biting hard into her lip, every bit of the warlock’s concentration was focused on keeping the deadly energy and anger at bay. If she were to lose her temper here, she could raze every inch of the town to ash. She would have to start over. No more friends, just life on the run and the promise of a horrific death if the guards ever got their hands on her.

It was only when she reached her cabin on the ship and slammed the door shut behind her, that Prudence could let the energy flow through her. She felt it dance in her veins, singing its siren song of death and destruction, that familiar tune that welcomed her home. Grabbing her waterskin and sitting at her desk, she tried to breathe through the rage.

Taking a sip of her water, she felt the anger ebb and flow like the waves against the ship’s hull. Yet, the taste of iron would not leave her mouth. Glancing at herself in a small mirror, she realised one thing before passing out:

_That was her blood she was tasting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger moment, I live for ANGST AND SUFFERING!
> 
> Got a more concrete idea of where I'd like this story to go, so expect more updates next week :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the encounter at the Preston's house, the guild are concerned about Prudence's mental state. Meanwhile, Prudence is more concerned about the blood on her cabin floor.

_Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow._

The problem with having sentient grimoires as pets is that when they lick your face, it's more like tiny knives ripping off layers of your skin than a morning greeting. However, considering the state Prudence was in, it was probably the only thing that could wake her up without being on the receiving end of an Agonising Blast. Though there were going to be no salted meat treats for Frisky tonight, since the smaller of the two grimoire’s had decided to lick an open wound on her head, aggravating the drilling pain piercing her skull.

No-one in the Oxventurer’s guild had ever been mauled by Bearilwen but as the tiefling warlock slowly regained consciousness, she now had a pretty good idea of what it would feel like. Painful. Bloody painful. Clenching her teeth together, she hauled herself into a sitting position – feeling her body scream in protest. Frisky and The Darkness skittered backwards, waiting for her to settle into one position before circling her and demanding attention.

Gingerly raising her hand to her face, she probed the head wound that Frisky had been licking. Her fingers came away a darker shade of red than normal, the blood glistening in the flickering candlelight. A guttural whine came from the wiggling books on her lap and she glanced down, to see her evil pups nosing at a small puddle of blood that had seeped into the wooden floor of her cabin. Not an abnormal thing to find in her cabin, after all, rituals and sacrifices require the occasional blood donation, but this was… excessive even for her.

Absentmindedly scratching The Darkness along the bridge of the book’s spine, the young warlock smoothed out her robe and took stock of the situation. The last thing she remembered was arriving back from afternoon tea with the not so subtle tiefling racists, trying not to burn the ship down and then tasting… blood? Her blood. Despite all her quirks, Prudence understood tasting your blood was not a normal thing to experience. So, internal bleeding. Not good.

_No need to panic, let us run through the possibilities. If I were cursed then the orb would sense it and the pups would be on edge, so it is not a magical issue. I managed to avoid Dob’s “team-bonding” activities, so it is not physical either. So… what does that leave? Poison._

Gently nudging her pups back, Prudence stood up and rifled through her shelves. Surely, she had some anti-toxin amongst her various potions and ingredients. Fire accelerants, paralytics, sleeping draughts, Froghemoth venom, acids, healing draughts – but no anti-toxins or emetics. Grabbing a healing draught and mashing up a series of ingredients, the warlock created a grey paste that she smeared across the head wound. The others were used to seeing her with blood spatters on her clothes and skin, but the open cut would spark too many questions, especially from Merilwen and Dob.

The thundering of feet on the deck of the ship alerted her to the arrival of the rest of the guild. They had spent so much time together on the Joyful Damnation, that Prudence had become an expert at deducing where everyone was, based on their footsteps. During the first few months of adventuring together, the paranoid side of her needed to know where everyone was. After the incident in the Scratchy Parchment, the guild had struggled to sleep for a month, so she asked Merilwen to keep watch with her since the elf didn’t need to sleep and Prudence wasn’t a big fan of sleeping. So, she quickly learnt to recognise the difference between her friend’s footsteps and those of strangers.

Egbert tended to be weighed down by his armour, resulting in a rather flat-footed thud that had disturbed many a ritual of Prudence’s. Dob had a dancer’s walk, his feet always tapping out a familiar rhythm that nobody could quite put their finger on. Corazon was remarkably fleet-footed, his steps barely audible but he could never resist the urge to hum a sea-shanty, which tended to give him away. Merilwen’s walks tended to vary, as she flitted between her animal forms but no matter what form she took, she seemed to emit an aura of calm.

_“Prudence? I’m coming in.”_

Turning sharply to face the door, Prudence watched the pirate step cautiously into the room, his hands up in a defensive position, as if expecting an attack. However, the fear was not of her, like she was used to. It was for her. Walking inside the dimly lit cabin and quietly shutting the door behind him, he gave her a soft smile.

_“You alright? You left in a hurry.”_

Snorting in derision, Prudence rolled her eyes. “In a hurry”, was an understatement of what Cyrus would have called “throwing a tantrum”. Although she appreciated the pirate’s concern for her wellbeing, she did not want to get into the years of suppressed anger caused by the systemic racism against tieflings in the realm of Geth. That was a conversation best experienced whilst at least five evil mimosas deep, so she would be too tired to obliterate everything in a ten-mile radius out of rage.

_“I’m fine Corazon, it’s nothing that I’m not used to dealing with. Guess I just didn’t want to hurt anyone and prove them right.”_

Plonking himself on her bed, Corazon eyed his warlock friend sceptically. Not wanting to hurt people was rarely a motivator for Prudence to remove herself from a situation, considering the whole pact with Cthulhu and her pleasure at Merilwen’s meat grinder incidents.

_“I just don’t want to be the monster they think I am.”_

Corazon’s brow furrowed, his mind casting back to his childhood when he played with swords and sang sea shanties with his mother at night. He never wanted the life of privilege, to be the lord’s dutiful son and to carry on the family legacy. He wanted to be a free man, to chase his destiny. The nobles used to call him ungrateful, selfish, and insolent. They saw his actions as a direct insult to all the “gifts” his father was providing him, instead of seeing the cage of expectations he had been placed in. So, for Prudence to even consider the concept that she was a monster, just because of two jerks in a lame cottage, caused his jaw to tighten with a wave of fierce anger.

_“You aren’t a monster Prudence. Sure, you have done some bad things, but we all have. Those assholes do not know you as we do. So, ignore their bullshit, let us go drink on the deck and we will go do this quest in the morning. I’ll even rob their house once we’re done.”_

A smirk crept on the tieflings face as Corazon blustered his way through his remarkably emotional speech. The two of them were not great with feelings or expressions of affection, unlike Dob and his endless hugging sprees, so to hear the pirate say something genuinely heartfelt was a startling change of pace. Though she was sure that he was going to rob the couple’s house anyways. It was standard procedure.

_“Thanks, Corazon. Now, let’s get smashed.”_

Stepping out of her cabin, with a pirate and two sentient grimoires in tow, she noticed a furry tail sticking out from behind a nearby wall. Above said tail, was a tusk. Above the tusk, was a little plume of smoke. In traditional Joyful Damnation fashion, they were not alone.

_“Oi, ninja trio, you realise we can see you.”_

_“Mew.”_

Wandering up to the ship’s deck with the rest of the Oxventurer’s guild in tow, Prudence plonked herself onto her usual barrel, allowing the late-night ocean waves to wash over her senses. She could sense the rest of the guild observing her. Honestly, it was getting kind of annoying.

The familiar notes of Dob’s lullaby flowed through the evening air, accompanied by the occasional harmony from Merilwen. Egbert was already halfway through his pile of scotch eggs and Corazon was counting his gold (probably to check none of it had ended up in a body of water). Mixing herself an evil mimosa and chucking a few salted lumps of meat to her pups, the warlock just tried to enjoy the moment before the onslaught of questions began.

_“Why didn’t you reply to my message?”_

The half-orc looked up from his lute, a look of genuine hurt on his face. Message? What message? She would often communicate with Dob through the message cantrip they shared, but this seemed… different. If she was not in the mood to converse or wanted to be left alone, then she just would not reply.

_“I was angry Dob; I didn’t feel like talking.”_

Fixing her with a serious gaze, the bard stared her down. His fingers stilled on the strings of his lute and the last chord of the lullaby rang out, the only sound in otherwise stony silence.

_“You shut me out, Prudence. Completely. I reached out to you and all I was met with was a cold blackness. It was if you were not there at all. I was scared that you had died. That I’d never see you again.”_

Just like Suzette. The words did not need to be spoken for every member of the guild to know exactly what Dob was referring to. As much as he had finally reunited with his sister, they all knew that those years alone had changed the half-orc. You could see it in the brief flashes of anger on his face or the lack of empathy for any friendly fire incidents.

Trying to formulate an answer that would get her friends to quit with the interrogation strategies, Prudence took a sip of her mimosa. She had no memory of Dob attempting to message her, which meant that the only time that it could have occurred was whilst she was passed out. Coughing up blood and losing consciousness were the main symptoms of powerful poisons, any warlock worth their salt knew that. Hell, any adventurer would know that. Including the four nerds stood in front of her.

_“Look I’m sorry that happened Dob, it must’ve just been a defensive reflex to stop any of you from getting hurt. When I’m angry… let us just say that my rage makes the meat grinder seem like a welcoming massage.”_

Flinching slightly at the mention of the massacre in Inkwater, Merilwen spoke up, her voice low and calm as if she were approaching a wounded animal.

_“You had every right to be angry. The Preston’s were racist and rude towards you, whilst you were nothing but polite to them. Pru, you have amazing self-control, managing to leave their home and come back to the ship without losing your temper. We support you. No matter what.”_

At over a hundred years of age, Merilwen was the definition of old and wise, without any of the wrinkled skin that usually accompanied it. Every bit of wisdom and knowledge that she had picked up in her century of wandering the world, was written on her face. The warlock summoned up a soft smile, acknowledging the support that they were offering her, before replying:

_“I’m okay now. Really. I just needed some time to work through my anger and right now, all I want to do is drink until I fall asleep.”_

A few tense seconds of silence passed before the atmosphere settled back into the quiet calm that they were all used to. Taking part in drinking games with Corazon and Egbert, singing along to the tune of Dob’s lute and playing with Merilwen in cat form, the Joyful Damnation was a lovely place to be.

It was lovely enough for the warlock to temporarily the constant ache of her muscles and the raw taste of iron in her throat. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been so long between updates! I've officially finished university now and have about a month before I start my graduate job, so am planning on getting a lot of writing done and out for you all to enjoy :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst waiting for the night to pass, Prudence realises that she might need some help with her situation. Thankfully, Merilwen is always awake at this time of night.

Most quests that the Oxventurer’s undertook, tended to involve as little preparation as possible. Often, it was a spur of the moment decision made by Dob’s inability to say no to anyone; Merilwen’s obsession with maintaining the balance of nature or Egbert’s constant search for atonement. On the rare occasion that Cthulhu made an appearance or pirates emerged from a whale, then Prudence and Corazon would get to lead the charge.

It was this ability to improvise and roll with the punches, that had allowed the Oxventurer’s guild to overcome so many obstacles in their time together. The fact that they rarely had a plan, sparked more fear in their opponents than a well-constructed ambush. However, the warlock was not quite sure they could overcome the obstacle they were facing. After all, only she knew of its existence. Can’t fight something that you don’t know about.

A couple of hours into their drinking session, the rest of the guild had peeled off, one by one to go rest and prepare for the mission the following morning. Alcohol had muddled their powers of observation, so the suspicion and interrogation of the evening had soon been forgotten. Egbert was the last to slope off to his cabin, mumbling to himself about the purple sky cow and how the ocean was singing to him about kidneys, leaving the tiefling alone.

Any other night, she’d have loved this moment of solitude. To be able to sit and just listen to the sheer power of the sea as it crashed against the hull of the ship, those waters hungering for something, anything to drag down into its depths. Even when the ocean was calm, she knew that it was a ruse. The calm before the storm. Much like her and her warlock patron, the ocean could not be tamed.

Yet tonight, she couldn’t shake the ache of her muscles and the ever-present burning pain that was slowly intensifying as the minutes ticked by. No matter how much she drank, that taste of iron and rust just wouldn’t fade. It was… unnerving. Prudence didn’t like to be on the back foot. There was always another option, a contingency plan, or a target for a well-aimed Eldritch Blast. No amount of creative genius or general insanity could combat poisons, not effectively enough to make a difference between life and death. Unless you could successfully purge the poison from the body or had the antidote on hand, there was very little you could do about it but hope. Hope was not a weapon in Prudence’s arsenal.

After five different emetic remedies, three general antidotes and a few blood sacrifices, the warlock had concluded that whatever was coursing through her system, would either be fought off by her body or would kill her. The only way to really tell was to wait. Patience was key. Sadly, patience was not her forte. The phrase “act without thinking” was probably created with her in mind, something that Corazon would agree with after the spider incident. Unlike the arachnids, Prudence wasn’t sure how the others would respond to the news she had to give them. It’s not like she could hide it forever, as much as she’d prefer not to have them fussing over her.

**_rrrRRrrrrRRR_ **

Glancing over at her demonic pups, she noticed that The Darkness was no longer asleep. Instead, he was creeping towards her slowly, the book’s spine raised like a cat. Nudging open her bag; Prudence saw what it was so riled up about. The orb was glowing. Not the ominous black that it had thrummed with after consuming the minotaur, nor the compelling pulsing that had drawn her to it in the first place, but a crimson red. She reached out to touch its cool surface, noticing with a wince that her hand was shaking. Not a good sign. Gently resting the tips of her fingers on the orb, she felt an overwhelming urge to close her eyes. No, not an urge. A command.

Images. Emotions. Flickers of the past and present. Anger and fear, pain, and longing. A tiefling, a gnome, running from something. A cave at the base of a mountain, a lily-white flower, and a trickling stream. Terror. Undiluted, unfiltered terror. The kind that seizes up your muscles and consumes every waking moment of your day. The smell of smoke, the crackling of flames and the agonising pain of the heat consuming their flesh.

Jerking away from the orb, Prudence swore in Infernal. Her hands shook, the smell of burning flesh lingered in her nostrils. Frisky and The Darkness snarled, a guttural sound, their hackles raised, and teeth bared. Her tail lashed back and forth vigorously, as she frantically scanned the deck of the ship for any potential threats. Finding none, the warlock turned her attention to the second most important issue – that being the consistent flow of blood dripping from her nose.

Judging by the position of the moon, she realised that it was almost dawn. The other members of the guild would soon awaken and come across her … predicament. With a resigned sigh, she walked to Merilwen’s cabin, rapping quietly on the door to gain the wood-elf’s attention from whatever trance or resting state she was in.

_“Come in!”_

Pushing open the door, Prudence stepped into her friend’s cabin, stepping over the various plants and herbs that seemed to be growing from every crack in the floor. Merilwen turned from her desk, where she had been whittling some new arrows for her bow, to smile at her warlock friend. That smile quickly morphed into concern, as she took in the bloodstains, the shaking hands, and the seemingly endless bleeding nose.

_“Prudence, what happened? Did you get in a fight? Did Cthulhu ask you to sacrifice something? Why are your hands shaking?”_

The look of concern in the druid’s eyes was so genuine and heartfelt, that it threw Prudence off for a few moments. She wasn’t used to this. Attachments were weak points, exploitable for your enemies, so she had never made them before. To want to fight for someone until your dying breath, to care so much that you sacrifice everything to see them smile, was incomprehensible to her. At least it used to be.

_“I… may have drunk too much and walked into the ship's mast. Several times.”_

Rolling her eyes at the blatant lie, Merilwen grabbed some absorbent moss and a handful of herbs. From previous experience, she knew that Pru wouldn’t talk until she was ready. No amount of persuasion, pressure or trickery could open the vault that was Prudence’s mind. Pressing the moss against the blood flow with one hand, the wood-elf mixed some herbs into a paste. Smearing the paste across the warlock’s open cut, apologising profusely at any pain she was causing.

Soon, the green forest moss had turned a dark red, practically drenched with the tiefling’s blood. The concern was swiftly moving to worry, as it became quite clear that the bleeding wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon. Judging from the amount of blood already absorbed into the moss and the large range of fresh bloodstains on Prudence’s dress, this had been happening for at least an hour.

_“This level of bleeding doesn’t come from “walking into a pole”. What did you do, fight it?”_

Feigning innocence, Prudence replied:

_“The pole had it coming.”_

Chuckling quietly, Merilwen stepped back, focused, and exploded into her bear form. Her sense of smell was extremely heightened as the Ursidae, so it was perfect for detecting the source of bleeds. Snuffling at the warlock, occasionally nudging her with her snout to get a better angle, Bearilwen was briefly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of smells wafting into her nose. The smoke from Egbert’s room, the spiced rum that Corazon was drinking and the range of remedies that Prudence had clearly ingested in the last few hours. Underlying those, was a familiar scent, one she hadn’t come across in many decades, intermingled with a more recent toxin from their adventures. Transforming back to her elven self and putting her hands on her hips in what she hoped was a serious pose, she addressed her friend firmly:

_“Pru. When were you going to mention that you’d been poisoned?”_

_“…When I was incredibly drunk about three years from now.”_

_“You have some weird mixture of the Pale Tincture and Wyvern venom in your bloodstream. I don’t know if you have three weeks, never mind three years. We need to tell the others.”_

_“Not yet. The moment they find out, everything will be put on hold and the ship will turn into a gosh darn medical bay. I’ve fought off poisons before, I’ll be fine.”_

_“You’re bleeding constantly, your hands are shaking and I’m guessing by that cut on your head that you passed out earlier. You aren’t ok. We need to get you to an apothecary, quickly.”_

_“I said no Merilwen. Look, the orb showed me a vision. I saw Lauren with another tiefling, running from something. They were terrified. They were fearing for their lives. All I could hear was the crackling of flames and their screams as they were being burnt alive. I can deal with racists and a bit of poison, but we can’t let them die just to cure my affliction a few days earlier than needed.”_

The genuine passion and fierce determination in Prudence’s voice, caused Merilwen to pause. It was clear from her tone, that she was going to go on this quest whether the guild wanted her to or not. Considering the many, many corpses of Prudence’s previous “obstacles”, one could only wonder what the death toll would be like when Prudence genuinely cared about something. 

_“I won’t say anything for now. However, the moment we finish this quest, you are telling everyone, and we are going to focus all our energies on getting you healthy. No ifs, no buts, no running away from it or I swear to Cthulhu that I’ll drag you to the healers by your horns.”_

Flashing the wood-elf a grateful smile, Prudence chugged a blood coagulant potion that she held in reserve for emergencies. Gradually, the blood flow slowed, though she knew that it was only a temporary measure. She had enough elixir to last until the end of the following day, so hopefully, they’d have it all wrapped up nicely by then. If not, well, they’d burn that bridge when they came to it.

Strolling down the ship’s corridor, hammering on the cabin doors of the fellow Oxventurer’s, the dynamic duo of Merilwen and Prudence roused their friends for what should be an easy quest.

Then again, nothing ever goes to plan for the guild, does it? The young man perched atop a nearby tree, watching the ship keenly, certainly hoped that it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things should get a lot more exciting as the guild begin their adventure!


End file.
